Blooming in the Night
by LifeAndSushi
Summary: "Give it up, Owlette," Robin commanded her. Lilith shot back a cheeky smile before swinging off the Knightshad rooftop. Over the icy air, she could hear Nightwing... Dick Grayson's laughter. She could hear Damian Wayne swinging behind her; the thin rasp of the titanium wires deafening. A Hawthorne with Wilson blood is cursed in love, by blood; but she will still bloom in the night.
1. Prologue

BLUDHAVEN

August 4, 23:16 EDT

"Grayson." a boy's soft, cracking voice commanded the vigilante's attendance over the communicator.

A gloved finger lightly brushed the com as a grappling hood was fired. Nightwing hummed his hello, "what's up, Little D?"

There was the tap of keys beneath Robin's fingers that blended with the swooshing air as Nightwing glided through the 'Haven. Robin's tutted lightly before calmly informing Nightwing exactly what the issue was, "was there a heroin shipment from the Falcone Mob last night?"

"No," the darkly clad man said as he racked his memory, "in fact, there hadn't been one for nearly two weeks now."

"So you were not the one intersecting the shipments."

"And you want to know who. Any connections?"

"No, they were on usual route through Knightshad."

"It's not Red Robin, he's still with the Titans; and if Red Hood was behind it, we would know simply from the number of gunshot wounds. That boy is seriously obsessed with his guns," Nightwing chuckled as he landed lightly on a warehouse. "I'll check it out, I'm just done with patrol."

"Noted. Robin out."

"Knightshad, huh?" Dick Grayson mumbled lightly as he removed his mask back in his apartment. Maybe it's time he paid some attention to the small town that laid between two of the most crime ridden cities in the world.


	2. Chapter 1

KNIGHTSHAD

August 5, 17:58 EDT

"Thank you for coming to Night Bloom," the cashier flashed a smile as she rang up the final purchase. "Money has been tight last month; your purchase definitely will definitely help us a lot."

"I don't mind it, Lilith dear," Mrs. Patricia Frisher took the girl's hands in her wrinkly ones. "My granddaughter loves the clothes you make. Have you ever thought of starting your own fashion line?"

"It's what I'm aiming for," Lilith Hawthorne shyly admitted, "that's why I have to graduate top of my class in Gotham Academy."

"You'll do fine dear," Patricia padded the girl's hand softly. "But there are lots of decent schools in Knightshad, or even Bludhaven, that you can go to. Gotham Academy is a good half hour away. And if you want, I'm sure my son can get you a job; he has friends in some high places here in Gotham at least. In fact, he's coming over tonight; I'm sure he can—"

Lilith smiled darkly, head tilting down enough for her thick side bangs to cover her left eye, "I don't mind the Academy. And your son is coming, tonight?"

The old woman shivered lightly; there was something dark in those wide grey eyes. "But—"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Frisher," the cashier interrupted, "I have to lock up, and I still have to get groceries. I'll see you again soon, I hope."

"Y-yes, of," Patricia swallowed tightly, brushing her greying curls back as she was practically pushed out the door, "of course. I'll stop by again soon."

The old woman gave one last look back as she started her new car. A small, sweet smile graced Lilith's face as she waved lightly at the general direction of the car. Patricia could see the ring of keys that jingled on the girl's index finger as she continued to bid farewell. There was something odd about that girl.

As the car slipped out of Petunia Street, the young cashier's smile turned into a smirk. Jamming on of the keys into the door, she felt the assuring click of the lock. Her fingers tapped quickly on the numpad beside the door, _5408_; perfect, the security was on. She gently stroked her pearl necklace as the matching pearl earrings and bracelets started to glow. Tonight, the Falcones will learn a lesson.

KNIGHTSHAD

August 5, 18:43 EDT

"Officer. Grayson?" a small, feminine voice called.

Dick's shoulders tensed lightly when he heard his name being called. He carefully repositioned his sunglasses, hoping it was meant to be for another person; and nursed his cup of weak coffee. He jumped out his chair when a small hand gently rested on his shoulder. He spun around, finding himself burying his nose soft black hair, cut short.

"I thought it was you," the girl smiled as she held out one hand, and brushed down her hair with the other, "I used to be a Gothamite… erm, I saw you on the news when I was younger. I'm Lilith, Lilith Hawthorne."

"Oh yeah," the girl's handshake was surprisingly strong for someone so small. Dick scanned his memory for any information on her, "Lilith Athena Hawthorne, the next "fashion designer of the century"."

The delicate black brows were raised in surprise. "I didn't think someone as important as a Wayne heir would care so much about a scholarship student."

"You got in Gotham Academy on a Wayne Foundation Scholarship," Dick chuckled, hiding the lie easily; "I tend to read up on that stuff. You won't believe what you'd be willing to do when there are over 100 Gotham Elites in a room, and you're bored out of your mind."

"No. No, chances are, I won't. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not if you won't hanging out with an old man," he gave a lazy, relaxed grin that wiped years off his face. The problem was, Dick did mind. He only caught scraps of intel on the Falcone mob, and even less on the new vigilante.

"So what's so interesting about Knightshad that the Gotham prince would visit it?" the girl asked as she tossed back the bangs that were almost as long as the black pixie cut in the back. She slipped into the chair across from him, and Dick gesturing to his cold coffee as an order to place an order.

"Nothing much. Just thought I'd get out of the city for a while."

"You'll have better luck in a place like Happy Harbour. I'm surprised the BHPD let you out long enough to drive here."

Dick followed with her teasing tone, "but alas, that means I must borrow money from Bruce, since clearly I'm not making any bucks of my own."

"My heart bleeds." To add to the dramatics, Lilith pressed her hand to her chest, before bringing it up to hide a small gold pendant that hung from her shirt's collar. "It must be nice to not worry about money though."

She was drawing slow circles in her milkshake with a straw, and Dick watched with a strange curiosity as a small crease marked her brow. Her could practically feel his eyes being drawn down towards those giant silver irises, and he would have sworn he saw something move. Suddently Lilith flinch and pulled back in shock, knocking over the glass at the same time. Lilith chanted her apology as she grabbed at napkins, not sure to clean up the table, or soak up the uncomfortable stain on the shirt that was oddly the same colour. Grabbing the nearby roll of paper towers, Dick tore off a yard of the stuff and began soaking up the pink mess.

"I-I-I'm so, so, so," the girl chanted as her eyes stared into her suede books while she dug clumsily in a small crossbody bag for a bunch of crumbled one dollar bills, "sorry. I didn't mean, I'm such a klutz, I—"

"Not a problem," the Wayne Heir flashed his father's signature grin, and rested his hand on her upper arm, where soft lace lines the sleeves of her blouse. "Totally whelmed. Can I walk you home? The Gotham area is no place for a pretty young girl to be walking alone. Don't worry, I'm not that old yet."

Those wide grey eyes looked away as a soft pink stained the pale cheeks. "I still have to pick up groceries. I don't want to trouble you."

"I can still help, and hey," Dick said, handing his gold card to the waitress, paying for both their drinks. Turning his charm level to 11, he looked down at her, he grinned "I'm good company. I want to know more about Knightshad. You are a local—no, wait, of course you're not, sorry."

"Not a local, but lived here long enough to know its quirks."

"Anything interesting lately?"

"No. The drug trade have slowed, and another prostitution ring was shut down, but nothing too drastic."

Dick followed her through the supermarket, the dark dingy store classic to Gotham. "Is that all?"

"I knew you were here for more than just sightseeing. You can't take the badge away from a good cop." Lilith leaned in closer to him, her breath soft beside his ear, "rumour has it, a new vigilante appeared. I think they were calling her Owlgirl or something."

Dick pulled back with a soft smile on his face, "interesting. Is she hot?" he asked, just to keep up his image.

"I never took you for a fanboy. Do you have Batman and Robin merchandise in the back of the manor?"

Dick smiled sardonically. "More than you would believe."

He watched her carefully as she placed the stuff in her basket onto the conveyor belt. Lilith Hawthorne could not have picked up enough food for more than one person. Even if money was tight, it would not last between any more than two people. He stood close on her suede clad heels, her brown boots soft and worn. She was respectable in her clothes, but it spoke of a subtle poverty. A quiet buzz broke the silent companionship between them. Shooting him an apologetic look, she slipped out a small veer phone, and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?" Lilith's softly said as she dug in her denim purse for change, "I'm sorry, what?! Are you sure? No… we have insurance, but… I understand, yes, I understand."

"What's wrong?" he used his best Nightwing voice, soft and assuring but assertive; something was definitely wrong, he could tell that much from the panicked look in those grey eyes.

"It's the store I'm working in," the girl stammered, grabbing at her bags, "it's being robbed… There must be another drug shipment tonight! Someone must really need the money…"

Dick pressed his index finger to her lips, and gave her a cocky smile, "let me call a friend then. He'll help stop it. I should take my leave as well."

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Grayson."

"It's Dick. Just Dick. And everything will be fine," he promised her. Pulling out a small card with his number scribbled on it, he gave it to her before sliding out the front entrance. There was something about that girl that was different, special…

But now, it was time for Nightwing to make a guest appearance. Knightshad needed a hero. His computer was set to its GPS setting, and was directing him to Petunia Street, where a gang of men was smashing into a small boutique. It felt good to fly again, in his Nightwing gear, he was free and he could fly; it's now a relief after the thick cape of the batsuit.

"The store's closed," he called on the roof once he was in earshot. "Or can you boons not read?"

As he leapt off the roof, he could have sworn grey eyes were watching him… but when he glanced behind, no one was there. It must have been a bird, he smiled at the thought of an owl watching him. The only question left was… _where—and who—is the vigilante?_


	3. Chapter 2

KNIGHTSHAD

August 5, 19:53 EDT

"Thank you," Lilith fumbled with her grocery bags, only to slip out the aisle and trip over her own feet. She flushed a pale pink, and stumbled out the store, bumping and apologizing all the way out.

"That girl would lose her own head if it wasn't attached to her body," a middle aged woman laughed as she paid for her groceries.

The cashier winked, "you can't blame her. You didn't see the piece of man meat that she came in with. Wayne's oldest boy, and he was charming the hell out of her."

"I'm surprised she lasted this long with no one to protect her. Hopefully she'll be smart enough to be knocked up, and get his financial support for the rest of her life. God knows he would never want to marry her with all the models he's surrounded around."

"Or she can always go for the younger one. Heard that one was in her school… betcha that was why she joined Gotham-A in the firstplace."

The two women laughed.

"Tsk," Lilith gritted her teeth in annoyance as she heard their voices through the thin wall that faced the back alley. Slipping into the shed in the back, she punched in the security code, _5408. _

"Voice activation, Owl's Nest," she commanded and slipped into the hidden door at the back. Twisting the copper ring on her bag twice, the secret compartment opened quickly, allowing a compact set of blue silk to peep through. She thanked the gods that the ride was smooth as she began stripping out of the casual jeans and blouse. She slipped on the shorts first, and then the flared top littered with silk flowers and pearls. The wide sleeves were heavy, and Owlette took relish in the heavy weight, knowing they were full of hidden artillery. Giving one last tug to her matching boots, she stepped into her own hidden sanctuary. Lovingly nicknamed, it was conveniently underneath the boutique being robbed right now.

There was the sickening crack of bone above, and Owlette's blood hummed with adrenaline. That rush was something that would never get old. Only one more thing was missing. The slate blue mask was covered with silvery gossamer design, and was designed to enhance the grey of her eyes. It molded itself to the contours of her eyebrows and upper cheek, and carefully winds over to the bridge of her nose. A small bleep from her laptop redirected her attention for a split second, but instead, she slipped through the doorway leading up to the boutique where a blood scene was currently fighting.

"Need some help?" Owlette cooed as she slipped out of the shadows behind one of the racks, "Nightwing."

"Nope," the other vigilante shot back a cheeky grin as his escrima sticks flawlessly deflected each of the blows, one of the three men already unconscious upon the wooden floor, "totally feeling the aster. You must be Owlgirl, though your costume doesn't match the name at all."

"Claims the boy who once ran around in scaly green shorts and a costume not befitting a clown." As her claims were made, her fingers flicked lightly towards the man, a hired muscle, and two small white razers slipped past, pinning a large man to the ground.

"Touché."

"And I prefer Owlette, the 'little owl'," she smiled as she slipped across the floor on her toes, moving with a fluid grace. "How about a little wager?"

"What kind?" Nightwing grunted as he flipped over a bullet.

"Whoever takes down the last man gets a secret."

"Deal."

Owlette smiled, reaching across the delicate cascade of pearls and silk flowers upon her costume to pluck off a bloom. Crushing it between her fingers, she flicked each of the razer lined flowers at a man, before twirling to deliver a final round house kick. She laughed at Nightwing's widened lenses upon his mask.

"Thanks for making it easier," Nightwing grinned as he threw a batarang, "I just took down the last one."

Owlette's mouth dropped open as she turned around to find the muscle she had taken down repinned on the floor. _Well… _"Shit."

"Shit is right, little girl," both vigilantes turned around to find a man with icy violet eyes, "so you're the one messing up our operation."

"Anthony Rizzo, I presume, of the _Falcone Mob_," Owlette hissed as the man walked close enough to nudge her chin up.

"And you're the new one. A pretty one; I wouldn't mind a few tumbles with you myself," He grabbed a narrow wrist that was on a path of collision. Using that captured wrist, he pressed her against his heavily muscled chest. "Don't make a move, Nightwing."

The metal of the barrel of the gun was warm, suggesting that it was either kept close, or recently fired. Both of which does not suggest any form of mercy. Both heroes tensed as she jabbed her elbow into Anthony's stomach, and flipped out of his grasp as he doubled over. The mobsters fingers twitched on the trigger, and aimed it at Owlette's exposed back.

"Watch out," Nightwing gasped as he shoved the girl out of the way, easily flipping over to knock the gun from Anthony's fingers. A quick punch rendered the man unconscious with a nerve strike. He turned around and grinned, "and I think I just won our little wager."

"Actually," Owlette's icy voice taunted, "I remember saying the _last man _down." With that, she slammed a fist into Nightwing's back, the built in blast knuckles on her gloves sending just enough electricity into the vigilante's back to make him collapse. "I'm sorry, Nightwing."

Nightwing's eyes fluttered before falling from consciousness. When the Knightshad police appeared upon the scene, three fallen brutes littered the floor of the store; Anthony Rizzo and the two vigilantes were long gone.


	4. Chapter 3

KNIGHTSHAD

August 5, 22:34 EDT

"You know you used to have quite a reputation as "the Boy Hostage," right?" a calm voice asked as fingers typed away on a key board.

Nightwing groaned, before pushing himself up. "What did you do that for?"

"I specifically told you it would be _the last man down_," Owlette continued, eyes steady on the dim screen, her fingers continuing their mechanic dance. She looked over the screen of the blue laptop "And I believe you now owe me—don't get up," Owlette's voice cut through the air before Nightwing's feel could touch the ground.

"Why?"

"I just shocked you with enough electricity to knock you out _through_ your insulated suit. Do you really think you should be getting up?"

Nightwing's eyes narrowed, "and you shocked me in the first place because…?"

"There was someone coming… the Knightshad police… and civilians."

A long, agonizingly awkward silence passed between them.

A small beep came from a timer in the laptop. Owlette coolly ignored it as she got up, "you should be able to get up now. You've been artificially healing for the past two hours. Think you can show yourself out? First door on the left."

"I guess I owe you," Nightwing promised, "but I promise to make it even."

Owlette gasped as he pressed his escrima stick against her, and crumbled into the floor. Nightwing looked at her in apology as he cradled her. His footsteps softly thudded across the floor as he exited the way Owlette told him to. His hesitantly stepped into the elevator, and was surprised that he received no signal until he stepped out of an old shed.

GOTHAM

August 5, 23:57 EDT

"Cheater."

"You did the same to me."

"_I_ didn't bind you to a table; you woke up on a bed," Owlette complained, tugging on her bindings as Nightwing chuckled over her. He carefully unstrapped her, and stumbled back as he received a fist to the jaw.

"What was that for?" he complained.

"For restricting me!" Owlette said exasperated as she rubbed at the chaffed skin.

Nightwing shrugged in response.

"We want to know what you're doing out there, Owlette," Batman stared darkly.

Owlette rolled her eyes, "doing what both of you have been doing to years. Knightshad needed help. While you two have been driving criminals out of the cities, they hit the road, on a trip straight to Purgatory."

"How did you plan on stopping them?" Batman's eyes narrowed at her.

"I have my ways." The petite girl shrugged as she brushed at invisible dust moats.

"Tt."

Owlette's head snapped to her side to where a boy descended on the stairs. "Robin," she greeted.

"Such a plan is the work of fools," Robin bluntly informed the girl, and the girl's lips pressed into a hard line. Their eyes clashed, and the tension thickened to be able to be cut with a knife.

A calm voice cut through, "you really must inform me when you have guests coming over, sir. Especially when it is a young lady."

"Good evening, Mr. Pennyworth" the girl nodded in acknowledgement, as Robin's glare darkened, and Batman's eyes narrowed in suspicion. But Alfred's composure faltered for a mere moment. "Tea?" he asked coolly.

"Yes please," the girl bounced over, and loaded her cup with 4 cubes of sugar and a heavy splash of milk. Tilting her head back, she downed the tea, leaving behind a grainy slush of sugar.

Nightwing poked her as he did the same thing with his, and found a thick layer of slushy sugar at the bottom, "did you want some tea to go with that sugar?"

"Haha. Very funny," Owlette deadpanned. She repeated the procedure, and downed it again. She set the cup down with a clunk, much to Alfred's displeasure. The old butler's eyebrow tilted slightly in annoyance before turning to return his tray. "I have to get back. I still have a drug ring to crack down."

"I'll come with you."

"why? Doesn't Bludhaven's golden boy have better things to do?"

"I'll do it," Robin surprisingly volunteered as the girl grimaced.

KNIGHTSHAD

August 6, 01:34 EDT

"I trust you are old enough to drive," Owlette commented as she gripped tightly around Robin.

"Since I was 4," Robin deadpanned.

"Yeah well, so did I. It was a tricycle."

"Tt."

"We are the same age, you know."

"I doubt you are aware of my real age."

"I know a lot more than you would think, Demon's Head," Robin stiffened slightly before turning the gas even higher. Owlette's arms tightened almost to the point of pain. "Take a right on the next corner."

Robin begrudgingly complied.

"How much do you know about Knightshad, Robin?" she breathed, her voice hopeful.

"Not much. My studies mainly focused on Gotham and Bludhaven, as well as the grand scheme of all things."

"It's the largest suburb between Gotham and Bludhaven you know. And it's basically the road to hell. I surprised the roads aren't paved with the skulls of unbaptized children." Owlette chuckled at the snort of apathy came from the boy.

"Care for a different type of bike ride, Mister?" a girl ran a hand through coarsely dyed red hair and gave a strained grin, as they stopped, "your lady friend can join for free."

"Eve, it's me," Owlette said as she hopped up to the prostitute and gave her a tight hug, "I need to borrow a few things, is that okay?"

Eve's face melted into a warm smile and tightly hugged the vigilante back. "Of course. Thanks for beating off that last Joe; some people just can't take "no" for an answer."

"I'm sorry I can't help you any more than that. Did the shelter find some more room for you?"

"No. But I'm on the waiting list. Hopefully I can get into a class, and a ticket out of here. Maybe I can get a job in Gotham."

"You would have better luck in Metropolis, and we all know you have a thing for the boy in tights." the two girls burst into a peal of laughter as Robin sneered at the open display of affection.

"C'mon," Owlette waved as she cracked open a side door, "time to have some fun."

She casted a wink over her shoulder as she shrugged on the dress Eve tossed to her. The shimmering black dress flared out, disguising the costume beneath; a carefully place black cloche hat gently tipped to hide the mask underneath. Eve grinned cheekily before tossing to him a trench coat and hat. "Get dressed Pretty Boy."

The Knight's Maiden was surprisingly warm, with a smooth charm that was reminiscent of the Iceberg Lounge. But instead of sleek ice and glass, it was hard black stones and worn, slightly charred wood. Over the piles of bodies, Robin could hear saucy Latin pop with hints of the orient play over the voices.

_Don't tell me that you don't like_

_anything about me_

_I've seen it in your eyes_

_that look, you think that I don't notice_

"I think this one's a keeper," Eve shouted over the music, as she and Owlette led him towards the back of the bar.

_Don't you be afraid to try_

_'cause you don't even know me_

_Why don't you read between the lines?_

_You know how it should be_

"I wonder how he'll stand up to the competition."

"Why don't we taken a look." The two girls continued to chat loudly over the catcalls and cheers.

"Thanks Eve," Owlette quietly whispered as the guards let them slip into a backroom, giving the disguised boy a crude grin as he let the girls through.

_or maybe you just fade away_

"That was disgusting, degrading, and obscene," Robin snarled as he redhead slipped into the shadows after a hefty amount of cash was slipped in Eve's hand.

"So you would have rather taken the worst of Bludhaven, Gotham, _and_ Knightshad?" Owlette glared as she pratically ripped off the dress.

"I would have handled them."

"But this is still smarter: a man with two hookers is as common as dirt. No one gives are damn."

"We're 16, if what you said before was true."

"There are girls younger than that who whore themselves out. But I guess rich little Robin wouldn't know about that."

Their mutual glares were broken when Owlette whipped to the side and kicked a door open.

"Nobody move!" she commanded before freezing up at the sight. Her jaw fell slack before she jerked the door closed before dashing down the hall, her cheeks still stained a pale pink.

Robin peeked quickly through the door, only to stare judgingly at two lovers in a very compromising position. "Disgraceful," he spat at them before he jerked the door back.

"So not an astrophe,"Owlette grumbled.

The Robin stared at her blankly for a moment before sighing, "Grayson."


End file.
